


Burning

by GreyMichaela



Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Angst with a Happy Ending, Blow Jobs, Finn must confront his feelings, M/M, Poe has a brush with death, Sexual Inexperience, Topping from the Bottom
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-08
Updated: 2016-01-08
Packaged: 2018-05-12 13:09:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,763
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5667217
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GreyMichaela/pseuds/GreyMichaela
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Poe's X-wing is badly damaged and he barely escapes the wreckage. Finn doesn't know how to process what the thought of losing Poe does to him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Burning

**Author's Note:**

> So I saw Star Wars right before Christmas and am now fully compromised by the glory that is StormPilot. It feels a little strange to be writing something other than Sabriel, but I hope you guys enjoy it! (There'll probably be more, who am I kidding.)

It was a pretty good landing, in Poe’s opinion. Of course, any landing he walked away from was a good landing in his books, but considering his X-wing had been missing its nose, half a wing, and _all_ its landing gear, setting her down with only a broken ankle, a dislocated shoulder, and a few cracked ribs to show for it was pretty damn impressive.

At least that was Poe’s opinion.

He had his little knife out and was cutting himself free of the harness before the ship had juddered to a complete stop. Time was of the essence—good landing or not, none of it was going to mean a damn thing if one of the fuel tanks caught a spark and blew him to oblivion.

Poe’s ears were ringing and he sawed at the next strap until his thigh was free. Just one more and he was out of there—the twisted glass and metal above him was abruptly yanked away and Poe looked up into Finn’s face, tight with indefinable emotion.

The strap holding Poe in place parted and Poe lunged up and out, letting Finn catch him, his dislocated arm clamped tight to his body as Finn dragged him free and they tumbled backward to the tarmac.

Poe hissed through his teeth as the impact of landing jarred him all the way to his core, but Finn was already in motion, rolling to his feet and dragging Poe upright along with him.

“Come on,” he said.

Poe struggled to obey, but his ankle wouldn’t support his weight and it turned beneath him, depositing him in a heap back on the ground.

Finn swore viciously and stooped, grabbing Poe’s arm and slinging it around his shoulders. Straightening, he hauled Poe back upright and they staggered away from the wreckage.

Finn didn’t stop until they were a safe distance from the smoking heap that used to be Poe’s X-wing. At the edge of the tarmac, Finn lowered Poe to the soft dirt and knelt beside him.

“Medics are on their way,” he said. “Just hang on.”

“Not… going anywhere,” Poe panted. Breathing hurt, and even shallow gasps felt like a red-hot poker between his ribs. Grimacing, he upgraded their cracked status to definitely broken.

Finn held Poe’s good hand, emotions flickering across his face too quickly to catalog, and Poe tried to pat his arm, aborting the idea when pain flared through his shoulder.

“’M okay,” he managed. “Bacta tank will fix me right up, promise. Did you see… that landing, though?”

Finn stared at him. “You could be _dying_ and you want me to tell you what a good pilot you are?”

Poe winked at him. “Know… I’m… good pilot.” He could hear people shouting, coming closer, but his vision seemed to be fuzzing out around the edges. The last thing he saw was Finn’s face as he sank into the darkness, tears tracking through the smears of dirt and Poe’s blood on his skin.

 

He floated, free of pain, warm and supported. He opened his eyes, blinking against the blurriness in his vision. He couldn’t see much, but somehow he knew that he was safe and healing.

Poe closed his eyes and fell asleep again.

 

He was in the bacta tank for a week before finally being decanted.

“Like a fine wine,” he told the nurse taking his vitals.

She rolled her eyes but her lips twitched. “You have a visitor,” she said.

Poe perked up as Rey put her head around the door.

“Hey, Dameron, how are you feeling?”

“Great, great,” Poe said, beckoning her closer. “How’s the base functioning without me?”

“We all miss you,” Rey said, settling in the chair beside his bed. “Leia is complaining that your ground crew is useless without you.”

“It’s true,” Poe said complacently, smoothing the blankets across his lap. “They’re like baby marlellos—can’t function when Mama’s not around.” He glanced toward the door and back at Rey. “Where’s Finn? How come he’s not here to celebrate my release?”

Rey shifted her weight. “He’s—ah…”

Worry sliced through Poe’s chest. “Is he okay? _Rey_ —”

“He’s fine!” Rey said quickly. “He’s just… busy. I’m sure he’ll be by later.”

 

But another week passed, and although Leia and Chewie and Jessika, not to mention the rest of the base, all visited, Finn stayed away.

 

Finally Poe was given permission to resume light duties, and Rey knocked on the door as the doctor left.

Poe grinned at her even as he glanced past her, hoping to see another familiar figure in the doorway.

Rey mustered a smile but she was obviously unhappy. “It’s just me,” she said. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry, you know I love seeing you,” Poe said, holding out a hand and pulling her close, tucking her in against his side for a quick hug. He’d figured out early on that Rey was touch-starved but didn’t know how to _ask_ for what she needed, so Poe made an effort to touch her at every opportunity.

“You can keep me company back to my quarters,” he said, releasing her.

Poe’s ankle was fully healed, his ribs still a little tender, and his shoulder was back to full mobility. He swung his arms experimentally as they walked, and Rey laughed. Poe grinned at her.

“How’s training with Luke going?”

Rey groaned theatrically. “He’s a terror. I train all day, every day, and he likes to ambush me at night with extra sessions. Says ‘a Jedi must be ready at all times’, or something.”

“And you’re loving it,” Poe guessed.

“Little bit, yeah,” Rey admitted, her dimples flashing.

Poe pushed open the door to his quarters and froze at the sight of Finn, sitting ramrod straight with his hands folded in his lap, on Poe’s bed.

Rey peeked over Poe’s shoulder. “ _Finn_ ,” she said. “I… uh…”

“I need to speak to Poe alone,” Finn said, his face impassive.

“Right, of course,” Rey said. “Poe, I’ll catch you later, okay?”

Poe heard her footsteps as she left but all he could see was Finn, still as stone, watching him with no discernible expression on his face.

He stepped inside and shut the door, leaning against it and drinking in Finn’s form with his eyes. Finn was so beautiful, with that dark skin and those darker eyes, his long-fingered hands clenched together in his lap.

Poe cleared his throat. “You look good, buddy—”

“ _No_ ,” Finn hissed, shooting to his feet. “Don’t call me ‘buddy’, don’t try and be my friend right now.”

Poe stared at him, the small room feeling suddenly much smaller, filled with Finn’s fury until Poe thought he would choke on it.

Finn spun away and slammed his hand against the wall. He whirled back, face contorted and fists clenched. “I don’t _understand_.”

“Understand what?” Poe said carefully.

Finn gestured helplessly. “ _This_. I’m so… I don’t… I want to _hit_ something, I’m—”

Comprehension slotted into place like puzzle pieces. Poe took a small step forward and Finn watched him, his eyes hunted.

“Why do I feel like this?” Finn whispered.

Poe took another step. Only a few feet separated them, but Finn was still strung taut, tension drawing his shoulders up and carving lines into his face.

“I’m _angry_ ,” Finn spat. “I know I shouldn’t be and that just makes me angrier, but all I see when I close my eyes is your ship… _burning_.”

“Do you want to hit me?” Poe asked.

Finn reared back, shock on his face. “ _No_ ,” he said. “Poe, you’re—”

“You said you want to hit something.”

“Not _you_ ,” Finn said. “I’m just—I don’t—”

Poe took a chance and reached out, catching Finn’s face and pulling him into a hard kiss.

Finn didn’t move, possibly stunned into inaction, and Poe let go after a minute, wondering if he’d misread the room.

“I thought you were dead,” Finn whispered. “I thought you—” He lunged forward and slammed their mouths together, hard enough that Poe thought distantly that he was going to bruise. He didn’t care though—Finn’s mouth was hot and wet and desperate and Poe groaned and pulled him closer, twining his arms around Finn’s neck and bringing their chests flush together.

Finn was a terrible kisser, sloppy and messy and with absolutely no idea what to do with his tongue. Their teeth clacked together and Finn growled in frustration, grabbing Poe’s hips and yanking him a little closer.

Poe made a pleased noise and pushed Finn backward until his calves hit the bed and he toppled onto the mattress, Poe riding him down and straddling his form.

Finn was breathing in short, sharp gasps, his eyes huge. Poe ducked his head and licked a bead of sweat off Finn’s satiny skin, relishing the way Finn’s throat bobbed as he swallowed.

“You want me?” Poe whispered, looking up.

Finn swallowed again, his mouth working but no sound coming out. “I can’t—I don’t know… _how_ , I—”

Poe kissed him again, teasing Finn’s mouth open and slipping his tongue inside in quick, soft sweeps. “It’s fairly intuitive,” he murmured. “And it’s a damn good way to burn off some pent up emotion.”

Finn’s hands tightened on Poe’s thighs to the point of pain. “Show me… what to do?”

“With pleasure,” Poe breathed, and bent to kiss him again.

He kept his touches light, and when Finn tried to deepen the kiss, Poe broke away, making Finn growl.

Poe grinned at him and sat up, still straddling Finn’s hips, to tug his shirt off over his head. “Works a lot better with fewer clothes,” he said as he popped free of the neck hole, blinking.

Finn nearly dislodged Poe in his frantic scramble to disrobe, and Poe laughed out loud and slid off the bed to shuck his own pants.

Naked, he took a moment to appreciate the sight of Finn sprawled on his bed, chest heaving, his thick shaft curving upward and resting on his belly, leaking in slow drops.

Poe’s mouth watered and he climbed back on the bed, kneeling between Finn’s legs. Finn’s eyes were huge as he stared at him.

“Just enjoy it,” Poe told him, and sucked the tip into his mouth.

Finn made a strangled noise and his hips bucked upward as he grabbed handfuls of the blanket beneath him.

Poe frowned and gripped Finn’s hand, guiding it to the top of his head. He hummed happily—making Finn’s hips jerk again—as fingers twined through his hair and tightened.

Poe closed his eyes and set to work, lips and tongue working the shaft and frenulum. He loved this, giving pleasure to his partner, taking them apart piece by piece until they were a shaking, whimpering mess.

He relaxed his throat and sank all the way down until his nose brushed the soft curls at the base of Finn’s erection. Finn’s hand tightened, pulling on Poe’s hair until tears sprang to Poe’s eyes and he couldn’t stop his own whimper, reaching between his legs to stroke himself as he sped up the rhythm.

“ _Stop_ ,” Finn gasped, and Poe pulled off and looked up.

“What’s wrong?”

Finn couldn’t meet his eyes. “I’m still—”

Understanding dawned. Finn was still upset. He needed to be an active participant, not a passive recipient. He needed to be in control, able to vent his emotions properly.

Poe patted his thigh and leaned over the side of the bunk, pulling out the drawer tucked underneath and rummaging in it. He came up triumphant with a small bottle of lube in his hand and pointed at Finn.

“You, that side of the bed. You can watch but not touch until I say.”

Finn swallowed hard and scrambled to the side, kneeling on the blankets and watching with rapt attention as Poe settled on his back and coated his fingers with lube.

“Key to this,” he said, circling the flexing muscle with one slick fingertip, “is moving… slow. At first.” He winked and slid his finger in. Finn’s mouth was slightly open, tongue caught between his teeth, eyes fixed on Poe’s hand as he pushed his finger deep in slow increments until his body was fully accepting it and then added a second.

He groaned at the delicious burn and stretch and Finn shuddered but didn’t move, still watching with rapt attention.

“I’m supposed… to… I’m never going to _fit_ ,” he whispered.

Poe tilted his head back and laughed, bright and joyous. “You’d be surprised,” he finally managed as he started moving again. The stretch was sparking along his nerve endings, making them all begin to fire at once, and he added another finger, impatient to get to the main course.

“Come here and kiss me,” he husked, hungry to be touched again, and Finn crawled forward and braced himself over Poe’s body, lowering his head until their lips met.

Poe could taste the still simmering frustration in Finn’s mouth, the almost fizzing need to _push_ and _take_ and _claim_ , but he kept himself still and let Poe take the lead, showing him what to do.

Poe tilted his head, giving Finn a better angle, and drove his fingers deep, scissoring them and stretching himself wide as Finn swept his tongue into Poe’s mouth.

“Now,” Poe gasped, skin tingling, “I’m ready, Finn.”

Finn licked his lips and settled himself between Poe’s spread legs. He looked unsure, suddenly, and Poe hooked a heel around Finn’s hips, pulling him closer.

“Please,” he whispered.

Finn looked up and met his eyes, swallowing hard, and then reached between them. A blunt pressure nudged Poe’s hole and he groaned as Finn slid inside, discomfort rapidly fading into that deliciously full feeling that he loved so much. He struggled to focus past that, blinking sweat out of his eyes to look up into Finn’s face.

“Okay?” he panted.

Finn’s eyes were screwed shut, his breath coming in sharp gusts as he inched further in. He managed a nod as he hilted himself, tendons standing out in his neck and shoulders as he struggled to be still.

Poe’s breath caught in his chest. “You’re so beautiful,” he said, and Finn’s eyes snapped open. Poe smiled up at him. “Now, fuck me like you mean it.”

Finn groaned and obeyed, pulling out by slow, agonizing degrees and then slamming home. Poe’s back arched and he cried out as Finn folded over him and began to move in earnest, hips pumping forcefully.

“Is this what—” Finn broke off, biting his lip, eyes unfocused.

Poe whined, reaching between them to grip himself and stroke in time. “More,” he begged.

Finn obliged, slamming deep so hard he shoved them up the bed. “Want you—first,” he panted.

Poe couldn’t concentrate, his brain cells scattered by the rhythm of Finn’s body above and inside him. He was burning up, set aflame from the inside out, sparks dancing incandescent on his eyelids.

“Want to… see you,” Finn growled, and shifted his angle, lifting Poe’s hips so he could get somehow even deeper.

The head of his cock dragged over Poe’s prostate and set off fireworks behind his eyes. He stiffened, mouth falling open as he came, painting his belly with white, bliss shivering through him. Finn thrust again and followed on a groan, falling forward and burying his face in Poe’s neck as he twitched and shuddered through the aftermath.

Poe held him, warm and loose and sated, his limbs heavy with pleasure.

“I thought you were dead,” Finn whispered.

Poe tightened his grip. “I’m sorry,” he murmured.

Finn lifted his head. There were tears shining silver on his dark cheeks. “I’m afraid, all the time. What if you die? What if I have you and then I _lose_ you, Poe, what if—”

Poe put a gentle hand over his mouth. “We’re all going to die eventually,” he said, and moved his hand to the back of Finn’s neck, pulling him down into a kiss. “Me, I want to go out knowing I lived the best life possible. And that means going after what I want, even if I might not get to keep it for long.”

Finn lifted his head again and looked down at him, wonder in his eyes. “And you want… me.”

Poe arched an eyebrow. “Sorry, did I not make that obvious? Would you like me to spell it out in semaphore next time?”

Finn huffed a laugh and pushed his face into Poe’s throat again. “I never knew,” he mumbled. “I never— _Poe_ …”

Poe stroked his hair, contentment and affection filling him. “Yeah, baby,” he whispered. “Me too.”

**Author's Note:**

> Find me on Tumblr at [GreyMichaela](http://greymichaela.tumblr.com) and talk to me about all things StormPilot!


End file.
